


Legacy

by YumeArashi



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Tearjerker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 18:13:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YumeArashi/pseuds/YumeArashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Giovanni considers his son's future.  Ezio prefers to concern himself with the present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Legacy

“Father, why must I do ledgers all afternoon?  It’s much too gorgeous a day to be stuck inside doing math!” Ezio Auditore nearly whined.

“You mean that your current lover is much too gorgeous for you not to spend the entire day carousing with her,” his father Giovanni chuckled.  “Come, Ezio.  I know you would rather waste your days enjoying yourself, but you must learn a trade.  Most boys would have started when they were half your age.”

“But why _banking_?  It is the most boring trade on earth, I swear.”

“Banking is good, safe, honest work.  You will never want for employment in this trade, and it pays enough that you can keep yourself and your family well.”  He smiled, a hint of the same mischief in the expression that he’d passed down to his sons.  “Well enough to indulge your spoiled children far too much, even.”

Ezio sulked.  “Our family has enough money that I do not need to work for a living.  Why should I not enjoy myself?”

“Because nothing in life is certain, Ezio,” Giovanni told him gently.  “Yes, we have money now, but that may not always be the case.  And while money comes and goes, the skills to earn it do not.  Besides, the money our family has is not so much to keep all four of you for the rest of your lives.  If you attended to your studies, you would see that,” he pointed out mildly.

“My studies can burn for all I care,” Ezio muttered mulishly.

Giovanni sighed.  “Ezio, if you truly have interest in another profession, then so be it.  I will support you in whatever you choose to do with your life.  Just understand that wine, women and song do not constitute a profession.”

Ezio scowled.  “You have often said that you were just like me when you were young, so what’s wrong with enjoying myself a little?”

“I was just like you, and my father was just like me.”  Of course, Giovanni had been learning the profession less as a means of livelihood and more as a respectable facade to hide his real occupation.  “He understood that letting me indulge myself, while it might make me happy, would only lead to my ruin in the long term.”

“You exaggerate, Father.”

“I have spoiled you too much, I see,” Giovanni shook his head.  “Your mother always said it was wrong of me, and in my heart I knew she was right.  But I do love you all and want what’s best for you.  That is a parent’s duty.  Unfortunately, sometimes what’s best for you might not be what you want.  I hope to see you all grow into strong, self-sufficient, honorable - and yes, happy - adults.  And that means learning a trade, among other things.”

Ezio slumped over his books with a sulky expression, clearly unconvinced.  Giovanni sighed.  “If you cannot accept that reasoning, then accept that I am telling you to do your ledgers and will give you a good hiding if you do not.  You’re not too old to put over my knee yet.”

Ezio sat upright with an indignant glare and began scribbling defiantly, not even looking at the pages, causing his father to roll his eyes. “And before you get too far just filling in nonsense, bear in mind that if you do, I’ll give you thrice the work.” 

That earned Giovanni another glare, the scratching  pen coming to an immediate halt.  Giovanni chuckled fondly.  “Just like me.  I’ll expect those done by suppertime.”  He settled down across the room at his desk with his own set of ledgers.

Soon, he told himself, he would begin training the boys for their true calling.  Mario had been pestering him about that for years now, reminding him that the two of them had begun training when they were old enough to pick up a blade.  He had a legacy to pass on, he knew. 

And he would.  But the boys were young yet, and their biggest worry was being forced to do ledgers on a bright sunny day when they’d rather be out making trouble.  Their hands were unbloodied, their souls unstained with the weight of having taken the life of another.  He could not bear to sully that.  Let them keep their innocence as long as possible, he decided once again.  They could learn their true calling later.

He had all the time in the world, after all.


End file.
